


A Little Mix Up

by TheCobraOfHell



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Cheating, Heavy Angst, M/M, Porn With Plot, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-21 15:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCobraOfHell/pseuds/TheCobraOfHell
Summary: Seven was really proud of his brother. He had been going to therapy, getting on a schedule, and getting into good relationships. He swore it wasn't his intention to get jealous, never in a million years. He loved his brother, he wanted him to be happy. So then- why did he have to take everything from him?





	1. Chapter 1

A Little Mix Up

Jealousy was something that Seven could never handle well. He usually just ended up burying it in a deep fucking grave until it managed to zombify and come after him, and by that time, the source of the jealousy was usually already gone and he just looked like an idiot. This time though he actually was impressed by how long it took for the damn jealousy to zombify again. 

He was proud of his brother, Seven swore on his life that he was proud of every accomplishment that his brother had achieved. Saeran was going to therapy, he was keeping a normal sleeping and eating schedule, and most recently- he’s gotten a boyfriend. 

Seven would admit the quickest out of anyone that Yoosung and Saeran were a perfect match. Yoosung’s brightness contrasted with Saeran’s brooding, Saeran helped to calm Yoosung down when he got too rambunctious, they helped and contained each other in a way that Seven could not have imagined possible. He was happy for his brother.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t be jealous too though. 

He was a fool, Seven would admit that too. He expected to get the girl (or Yoosung in this case) without doing a single thing different. When he heard from Saeran himself- “Yoosung and I are dating now,” he had said bluntly and out of nowhere- his stomach had dropped, and he swore that his heart had stopped beating for a moment. But he had smiled, that same old smile, and Saeran was none the wiser. “I’m happy for you.”

-

It happened gradually over time. Seven had buried that jealousy as quick as it had come- but it began zombifying almost immediately. It really- _really_ \- fucking hurt. It crawled closer to the surface, an inch with every little interaction he noticed. It wasn’t as though they were blatant- he was just hyper aware. 

Yoosung hugged him, and Saeran didn’t like hugs. Saeran sat close enough to where their legs touched. Yoosung greeted him in the morning with a cute text. Saeran called him to ask him over when he hated speaking over the phone. They cooked together. They took walks together. They went out for ice cream. They went out for coffee. They went out for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner. 

They kissed. 

Seven had smashed his most recent contraption immediately after- he blamed it on stress when they asked. 

What had he been expecting? Honestly- _what was he expecting?_

Of course, eventually, they would get even more affectionate- he was just an idiot for not expecting it. 

One day, he had actually gotten up and decided to go and make something to eat. Seven strolled down to the kitchen, and paused when he passed the living room. There they were, laying down on the couch with a movie in the background. The movie was completely forgotten with the two of them turned to each other, exchanging sloppy kisses and soft moans. 

Seven went beet red and sprinted the rest of the way to the kitchen, both relieved and a bit disappointed that they hadn’t noticed him. Suddenly- he wasn’t up to making any food. He settled for PhD Pepper and Honey Buddha Chips instead- a feast fit for a (fucking depressed) king. Just as he was about to pass the living room again- they had spoke. 

“Wait, no.” Saeran was gentle, but very firm in his request, and Seven stopped. They still didn’t see him as he peeked around the corner and watched. 

Yoosung sat up a little bit, tilting his head at Saeran. “What’s up?”

Saeran shakes his head. “I- I don’t want you to see it.” He rubs his shoulder awkwardly, and it was clear he was talking about the tattoo. He was still shameful of it, that was certainly something to work on, but he wasn’t bitter. 

Yoosung’s brow knits upward, and he gives a little smile. “That’s okay. We don’t have to go that far.” He moves to snuggle back against Saeran, one of his hands landing on Saeran’s hip and rubbing in small circles. 

_God I wish that were me._ The phrase stuck in Seven’s head like a mantra, and it only amplified when he saw Yoosung’s hand creeping down, palming the bulge in Saeran’s pants. Seven gave a sharp inhale and a shiver tumbled down his spine- he hated that he didn’t run away right there. 

Saeran looked pleased, leaning against Yoosung as the blonde gave a kiss to his throat. “We can just do _this_ instead…” Yoosung squeezes gently, and Saeran moans softly. 

Seven finally leaves. 

-

He hadn’t done a lot of thinking on this, that was for sure. Seven knew that it was wrong, dammit, he knew very damn well- but he couldn’t seem to help it. 

Saeran’s job was always so out of the way, he usually considered it to be a nuisance. So when he got a call from his work, asking for him to come in for a shift that someone refused, he whined and complain- and then got his uniform on. He might have hated it- but it was money. 

Seven knew very well that this was his opportunity. He logged onto the messenger, tweaked the code a bit, and sent a message from Saeran’s account. He sent it to Yoosung. 

**Hey- you should come over. My brother’s out.**

Almost immediately, Yoosung appeared to be typing. Of course he would be though- Saeran had just texted him. 

**Really? You say that as if you had something in mind…**

When he added a winking emoji, Seven could feel his chest constrict. His breath grew soft, and he swore he couldn’t breathe. 

**I do.**

Yoosung responded immediately. 

**Good. I’ll come over now.**

This was it- it was starting. His heinous plan was beginning- yet here he was, not feeling any remnants of guilt or apprehension. Perhaps later- but now he was…

Excited. 

Seven pulled on the sweater and skinny jeans, praising himself for already owning a pair that would fit him. It was a little bit off, mostly with the extra arm muscles, but for the most part- it was a complete match. He just had to take off the glasses. 

It took more effort to act like him. He sunk his shoulders a bit, bowed his head more, sneered a bit more. It added up well, but he still seemed awkward in that skin. Seven begged that they wouldn’t be talking much today- then it would be easier to get away with it…

Seven jumped when the doorbell rang, and it was then that the hesitation sit in. He could quit right now- he could throw on his sweatshirt and glasses and open the door, tell Yoosung that it was a prank. He could do that. He could. 

“Hey Saeran.” Yoosung was grinning at him, his gaze brimming hintfully. He had with him a grocery bag, a container of ice cream and-- something else inside that Seven couldn’t place. 

Seven gulped, his nerves eating at him. At least that made him look natural. “Hey- come in.” Seven swore he was shaking, sweat prickling at the nape of his neck and mouth already going dry. 

Yoosung shuts the door and follows inside, pulling out the ice cream and setting it on the table. “Saeran, you look really nervous,” he points out, moving to grab some bowls and spoons. “I hope you know that we don’t have to do anything if you’re too uncomfortable with it. You know I’m alright with it, right?”

Seven hates himself all of a sudden. Yoosung is so genuine, so honest, so- fucking loving. For Saeran. “Y-Yeah, I know.” He turns back to Yoosung and sits with him as he sets out bowls of ice cream- Saeran’s favorite flavor. It doesn’t taste as sweet as it usually would be, and Seven knows exactly why. 

He finishes the ice cream despite the churning in his stomach. When Yoosung isn’t looking, Seven takes a quick glance at the bag again, but he still can’t tell exactly what it is that he brought with him. 

“You look kind of different,” Yoosung observes suddenly, and he feels a little bit awkward at the nervousness Saeran displays. “Wait- wait- it’s your eyes…”

 

SHIT!

Seven trembles, one of his hands moving to touch his eyes a bit. “What- what about them?”

Yoosung tilts his head. “They’re gold…”

“I…” Seven gulps down air, his heart pounding out of his chest at this point. “I took out my contacts…”

There was no way he would believe that. Yoosung’s brow furrows and he leans in a bit, observing Seven’s face as though he was reading his mind. Seven swore he could see right through him, he swore it on his life. When he feels Yoosung’s palm against his cheek, craddling him sweetly, he swore he had died. 

“They’re pretty- you should take them out more often.”

When did Yoosung get this smooth? Seven wasn’t sure about that, but he for sure was over the moon. His stomach continued to tickle him with nerves and, now, excitement. So when Yoosung pulls him closer, his eyes drifting shut and lips ready- Seven can’t find the heart to say no to it. 

It’s just like he imagined it would be. Sweet, just slightly cold from the ice cream, but his lips are soft and meld to his effortlessly. When Yoosung licks his lips, Seven can’t help the moan, and Yoosung takes the invitation gladly. Seven whimpers pitifully, their tongues slipping together in playful dance. His hands shoot out, holding onto Yoosung’s sweatshirt desperately. At any moment- this could end. 

When they pull apart, Seven just about jumps in shock at the look Yoosung’s giving him. It’s loving, accepting- and lustful. He can see it clearly, his gaze morphed with a desire that he never thought he’d see for himself. Seven trembles, holding his breath while Yoosung almost looks at him expectantly. 

Seven can barely hear himself mutter, “I want to…” but what did he want to do? He didn’t really think this far. If anything he wanted a kiss, maybe two or three of them. He wanted to cuddle Yoosung, feel him breathing and feel the way his heart pattered for the person he loved. For a moment- he wanted to just be that. Even if it meant destroying their relationship, destroying Saeran’s trust- for some reason… it was worth it. 

“You want to…?” Yoosung repeats, tilting his head and looking a little bit more intense. Another shiver runs down Seven’s spine. “All the way?”

His breath is sapped away in an instant. Seven can’t help his wide eyed expression- and his cheeks must be aflame as well. With his extra long pause, Yoosung moves and pulls out the other package from the bag. 

It’s a box of condoms. 

“Do you want to?” Yoosung asks again, softer this time around. “We don’t have to. I am willing to wait until you are comfortable, Saeran.”

Seven freezes up, the name ‘Saeran’ spearing him in the heart in a way he could have never imagined. He could say no, he could ask Yoosung to leave, he could run to his room and apologize, blaming it on a prank. He could do all of those things. 

Seven nods. 

-

Seven was a selfish man. He usually punished himself for it when it got out of hand- but this- this was already way too out of hand. And he was just taking more and more of it. 

He had laid Yoosung on the table first, then he changed his mind and turned him over instead. There was less of a chance of seeing him in that position anyway. It didn’t matter as much since he still kept his shirt on, but one couldn’t be too careful. But, this wasn’t how he had imagined it would go. 

He had always dreamed about making love to Yoosung- in his bed, under the covers in the middle of the night, the only light source coming from the moon. Yoosung would be chanting HIS name, begging for HIS body, loving HIM. Seven loved the thought of the expressions he would make, when he first pushed into him, when he could feel himself getting lost in the pleasure- when he would cum. Afterwards they would cuddle, and he’d hear the whisper…

“I love you so much, Seven.”

Oh god it was such a perfect dream- but he would make due with this. 

It happened quicker than he wanted. Before he knew it, Yoosung was begging and whimpering, looking over his shoulder at Seven with hooded eyes. “Saeran-- please- fuck me. Love me.”

Seven inhaled sharply, his cock twitching excitedly. His hands smoothed over Yoosung’s back, feeling his shoulders, then his lower back, then his ass. In that moment, he changed his mind. If he was going to do this- he would do it right. 

“Turn over.” 

Yoosung obeyed, albeit with a little complaining about waiting too long, and laid back on the table, spreading his legs open. The sight was appealing- and Seven dragged his hands up those smooth thighs, hooking under Yoosung’s knees to hold him open. 

“Look at me- I want to see your expressions…”

Yoosung grins a little and complies, staring straight at Seven as he pushes in. Yoosung gasps, brow knitting up, mouth falling open as he’s slowly impaled. He arches back, moans spewing from his lips unabashedly- but he doesn’t dare take his gaze from Seven. “Sae- Saeran- you feel so good-!”

If Seven concentrated hard enough, he heard ‘Saeyoung’ instead, and it fueled him. The image of Yoosung taking him etched in his mind like carving into stone, and he was sure to remember it forever. 

Then he fucks him. 

Yoosung yelps loud when the thrusts start, his breath forced out with each shove forward. He knew that Saeran had been a very dominant man, especially after everything he had gone through, but this was certainly unexpected. It was like he had been a caged animal, denied at every point something he would never get- and then suddenly unleashed. Of course- the animal would take as much as it would get, knowing that it might not ever get another chance. 

“S-Sae! Sae-!” Yoosung’s cries die off immediately after, only able to give in to gasps and whimpers. He hadn’t thought he’d be so close already- but he knew that Saeran had this effect on him. “God- god- I love you- I- love- you-!”

The table creaked in protest, punctuating each word Yoosung gasped out almost magically. Seven was in heaven, there was no denying. It was like a drug, this sinful sex was addictive, pulling him deeper in, spurring him even more. 

“I love you too- god dammit I love you so much, Yoosung. You don’t even know it- you can’t comprehend how much I love you,” Seven grunted out, his thrusts gaining momentum, going deeper- harder- faster- dammit he couldn’t stop himself, and Yoosung didn’t look like he wanted him too. 

Yoosung whined loudly, reaching for Seven and pulling him close by the nape of his neck. “I can’t comprehend? I know how much you love me- I’ve always known…” He whispers breathlessly. 

For a moment, Seven swore he knew. 

“Do you?” 

Yoosung smiled sweetly, innocently, lovingly. “I do…”

Seven slowed to a stop, just staying there, observing all that Yoosung was- and he loved every bit of it. He leaned down and kissed him. It was more magical than before. They connected in a way that Seven never thought could happen. Yoosung breathed against his lips in short pants, but he didn’t dare to break away. He licked Seven’s lips instead, tracing the curve of his lips with his tongue and plunging in with fervor. Seven sucked on his tongue, taking in the memory of his taste- his smell- the feel of his lips. 

When they pulled away, things were calm despite their position, and Yoosung was looking at Seven with deep adoration. “I love you, Sae~”

Seven smiled back, his heart finally full. “I love you too, Yoosu-”

_SLAM!_

They both looked up. 

And Saeran stared back with an expression that Seven had never seen before.

Seven’s playtime was over. 

It was just a little mix up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saeran and Yoosung start going to couples therapy in order to help keep their relationship intact. After everything that has happened- maybe they'll be able to get it all on track again. With hard work and plans for the future, things start looking up for our main characters.

Chapter 2

Would it be wrong to say that he knew? 

Yoosung knew that this would be hard- it would tear them apart. From the moment that door slammed shut, they were in a world of hurt. 

He offered for Saeran to stay with him, and for a while he refused. Yoosung understood, or at least he tried to. Explaining didn’t work, he thought it was malicious. The last thing Yoosung wanted was to hurt Saeran like that. 

But, things started getting better when Saeran went back to therapy. A couple weeks into singular therapy- Yoosung joined him. 

.

“Now- I have a few questions for both of you that I want you to each ask each other. Please be honest, and know that this is a safe place to express yourself and your problems.” 

It was like a cage match, or at least, that was what Yoosung saw it as. Saeran was staring at him hard, eyes glowering in the same way that they had years ago- back when they met him in Mint Eye. It was petrifying- and so very sad. Yoosung had promised to never make him feel that way again… like he was feeling threatened…

Saeran peered at the paper with questions on it, sneering at it as well. He didn’t think this would work- why would it work? They’d already talked (briefly, sure, but they did) enough about what Yoosung and Saeyoung had done…

“What are our main issues?” He asks it in a hiss, glaring at Yoosung. 

Yoosung has to shuffle in his seat, wondering if being honest really is the best choice. “The whole thing with Seven, of course.” He thinks that’s enough, but the therapist raises a brow, crossing her legs. “Uhm- and… communication, I guess.”

Saeran’s glare narrows, but the therapist seems intrigued. “Can you elaborate on that, Yoosung?”

He has to take a deep breath before doing so. “I mean- I don’t think you really talk to me about you, about your problems- you just deal with them yourself.” Yoosung plays with his hair nervously, nibbling his lip. “You don’t tell me about your interests or hobbies- just whatever I show you. You just go along with it, it’s like you don’t have any input…”

The therapist nods, then she looks at Saeran. “What about you, Saeran? What do you think the main issues are?”

He pauses, fiddling with the paper. “I kinda agree- but...well, I feel like I can’t talk to you sometimes. After everything it’s still hard to talk about myself, I figured you were mostly just never interested…”

“I’m very interested!” Yoosung spoke back desperately, expression etched in concern and genuineness. Saeran could feel his cheeks warm, reminded of the first time they had kissed…

_“I brought you every kind they had!”_

_“Why would you do that?!”_

_Saeran almost looked pissed, but seriously, Yoosung didn’t have to buy 20 pints of ice cream in different flavors for him…_

_Yoosung looks down at the several pints, a bit bashful now. “I didn’t know what your favorite flavor was- I didn’t want to disappoint you.”_

_He just had the most innocent, purely appealing expression. Saeran couldn’t help the smile and little laugh he made. “My favorite is Mint Chip.” Yoosung laughed with him for a moment, only to have Saeran go completely serious. “And you don’t disappoint me, Yoosung. You never could…”_

_Yoosung had already leaned closer, this sweet, sappy smile on his cheeks. Saeran leaned closer too, feeling safe, secure- in love...._

_Their lips connected, soft, calm- but the sparks they gave were convincing. In that moment, Saeran knew he had loved him._

_It was perfect in that moment._

_And then the sound of shattering glass broke the calm. They rushed to the living room and saw Saeyoung scrambling to sweep up bits for a new robot he had been working on. “Sorry-” he apologized, “my grip slipped. Must be the stress…”_

“What bothers you the most about me?”

Yoosung honestly had no idea how to answer- afraid he would hurt Saeran’s feelings. He knew what to expect in a relationship with him when they had first started dating, and he went ahead with it anyway. Wouldn’t it be mean to say what he didn’t like? That he didn’t like the complications of their relationship?

“It’s okay to be honest, Yoosung. Tell him how you are feeling.” The therapist advises. 

“I- well…” Yoosung rubs the back of his head, his throat tightening and going dry. “I’m bothered by how distant you are sometimes. Or when you push me away when I know you’re in pain. I always feel like I’m not… good enough.”

Saeran frowns, but he doesn’t look angry anymore. Instead, he purses his lips and tries not to let his tears dribble out. “I’m bothered- by how nonchalant you can be sometimes. Like with Saeyoung- you just thought explaining it would be alright, but it’s not.”

“Good, good, you two are doing great. Next question, Saeran?”

Before he asks it, he can’t help the little sniffle he produces. In front of a therapist alone, he might have not been this emotional- but he was also with Yoosung, and he cared, and he wanted to help… that had to count for something, right? 

“How- well, this seems more for you. How can I regain your trust?” Saeran rubs his nose to not sniffle as much. 

Yoosung reached out, holding Saeran’s hands tight within his own. “I already trust you, Saeran. Tell me what I can do- what can I do to regain your trust?”

Saeran holds onto Yoosung’s hands tighter, desperately trying not to lose him. “You can- be more honest. Tell me when you’re upset. Spend… spend time with me, even when I’m not feeling well.”

“I’ll do that, everything.” Yoosung instantly assured, grinning and gaze brimming excitedly. 

The therapist smiles a little, letting them bask in the slight joy of realization. “Mm, I think you two only have… one more question.”

Saeran nods slowly, looking at the paper again. “How do you see the future for us?”

Yoosung smiles again, this time the expression warm and adoration seeping from every part of him. “I can see us getting over this slump, moving in together. I think we’d be able to get a cat soon, like we thought of- remember?” Saeran smiles and nods a little, giving small laughs. “What about you, Saeran?”

Saeran can feel himself flushing as he thinks about the question. He wonders if he should be completely honest, but then again- that was the entire point of this, right? “In the future- I see us living together, having a cat, maybe even a bunny or a ferret.” Ferrets are cute. “I can- I can see us getting married…”

And Yoosung beams, pulling his hands closer and leaning in to kiss him with a passion that Saeran had never experienced. It becomes awkward quickly as their therapist clears her throat, and they break away breathless. “You really think so?!” Yoosung asked instantly. 

Saeran grins wide, nodding. “Yes.”

-

Saeran moved into Yoosung’s apartment the next day. It was a little difficult to get all of his stuff out, but with Vanderwood and Yoosung’s help combined- they didn’t even have to see Seven. It was lucky for both of them because Saeran wasn’t sure he could face him quite yet…

Things turned out almost perfect- they had gotten a better mattress and a few appliances, Yoosung had just enough room in his dresser for Saeran’s clothes, and they had begun working out schedules for work, school, and their next date. 

“Where should we go tomorrow?” Saeran had asked Yoosung. After a week, they seemed to have almost completely settle in, and Saeran had never felt more comfortable in his life. Living with Saeyoung had become unbearable- he was always asking if he was alright, if he was being responsible, and just being judged. It was suffocating. 

He could see himself living here for a long time. Or- perhaps at least- beside Yoosung. 

Yoosung raised a brow, grinning cutely. “Why don’t you choose this time?”

Saeran’s heart fluttered a bit, his chest tightening as he thought. “We should- have a picnic. At the beach.” He had read it from a romance novel and always thought it was a romantic idea. “We can make sandwiches and go swimming…”

“I love it.” Yoosung says it immediately, pulling Saeran into a tight hug. He pulls back just enough to kiss him sweetly, hoping to solidify the plans with just that motion. 

When Yoosung introduces his tongue, Saeran, sadly, has to push away. “I- I have to go to work- Yoosung! Maybe later…”

Yoosung peers back up at him, grinning sneakily. “Maybe--?”

Saeran snickers a little. “Mmm, we will- later though.” With a little regret, he grabs his work cap and pulls it over his head. “I love you, Yoosungie- I’ll be back at ten tonight, alright?”

Yoosung nods. “I’ll look forward to it. I love you too.”

With that, Yoosung plops in his computer chair and loads up his last round of LOLOL, ready to pick it back up from where he left it, placing his headphones on and letting the music drown out the outside world. 

At 8 o’clock, the door opens again. 

Yoosung pretends not to notice, even though he can hear it from there. A pair of hands settle on his shoulders, rubbing gently to grab his attention. It worked, and Yoosung tilted back to see the person behind him. 

Seven stared back. 

“Hey…”

“Hey.” 

Seven pulls off the headphones and tosses them off to the side, now able to cradle Yoosung’s head as he leans down and kisses him. His tongue instantly intrudes, stroking along Yoosung’s own with fervor and remembrance. 

Yoosung kisses back, his breath sapping away within seconds. One of his hands reaches up, fingers threading into red hair and tugging a little bit. Seven purrs and gives a little bite to his bottom lip. 

Yoosung has to break away, turning his chair around to face Seven better. “How’d you get in?”

“Spare key- on the windowsill. You should hide it better.” Seven holds it up to prove it, and Yoosung can only glare at him. “I’m gonna keep it, by the way.”

And Yoosung sighs and swallows the lump in his throat. “O-okay…”

He makes sure that Seven is gone by 10 o’clock. 

And Saeran is none the wiser.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung shares things from his point of view.

What is love anyway?

Was it that tingling feeling in the pit of your stomach, like a tickle that grew over time? Or was it the warm, full feeling of being next to your significant other? Or was it the breathless, jumpy feeling tracing your skin that brought goosebumps? 

Or was it all of those things?

Yoosung loved Saeran, he knew that for sure. Every time he held Saeran, those tickles started, the warmth held him, and he got breathless. Every kiss they had brought even more of those, the goosebumps, the fullness…

It always made him more hungry. 

.

“Wait no.”

Yoosung pulled away from their kiss, exhaustion very slight in his voice. “What’s up?”

“I- I don’t want you to see it…” Saeran claims, adjusting his sweater so it covers the tattoo on his shoulder a little bit better. Yoosung sighs and backs off a little more, thinking about how to respond. That was the usual excuse. Every time he tugged slightly on that goddamn sweater, Saeran would jerk and slap him away. 

It was tiring. 

“That’s okay- we don’t have to go that far…” He settles quietly, snuggling back into Saeran, his nose ending up buried in the red-head’s throat. “We can just do this instead…”

His fingers trail down, just barely putting pressure on his stomach before pressing his palm firm against Saeran’s hard on and squeezing it gently. For a moment, Saeran moans, a restrained sound- and Yoosung hears shuffling from somewhere. 

In the next moment, Saeran is pushing him again, shuffling out from under him until he’s on the opposite side of the couch. Yoosung scoffs, annoyed and painfully aroused from their previous kissing, watching as Saeran just about pouts in his little corner. 

“Okay, what’s wrong _this_ time?” Yoosung asked with annoyance once more, eyeing Saeran incredulously. 

“ **This time?!** ” Saeran looks almost offended, and his eyes were pooling with tears. “I’m- I’m just not ready okay?! That’s all I need to say about it…” He sniffles, and Yoosung suddenly realizes that he’s actually crying. 

He hates seeing Saeran cry. It’s rare, and painful to watch, and hard to help ease. Yoosung sighs and inches closer until they’re both sitting on the edge of the couch, and he holds his boyfriend loosely but very assured. “I’m sorry…” is all he whispers back, rubbing Saeran’s back gently. 

Every physical encounter would end up like that, and Yoosung always left empty and frustrated. He knew he should be supportive, open to listening to Saeran, but the frustration was starting to get worse. Saeran liked kissing, he liked rubbing against him slow and methodical, he liked touching his nipples and bare torso- but when it came to anything other than that, it was always a sure no. 

Simply put- Yoosung felt neglected. 

So, when he was sent a text out of the blue from Saeran, beckoning him to his place, he thought nothing of it for a moment. If he looked closer though- the wording seemed different, hintful. And when Saeran confirmed that yes- he was planning something- he shot out of bed and was instantly out the door. 

He hadn’t known what had gotten into Saeran, but he certainly liked it. Seeing him in his same old sweater, nerves obviously grating on him, Yoosung had promised he would be as slow and as gentle as possible. After all, he had been poking and prodding the subject for weeks- the least he could do was let Saeran take the lead. 

“Saeran, you look really nervous,” He observed out loud at one point, setting the ice cream out and trying to not look too excited. “I hope you know you don’t have to do anything you’re too uncomfortable with,” he continues. Although the thought of NOT doing something kind of made him ache, he knew that Saeran’s safety was the utmost importance. 

“Y-Yeah, I know…”

Things seemed to set off slowly from there, and rather normally, Yoosung noticed. It felt right just letting it slide along. He held Saeran’s face sweetly, adoring this new behavior of not putting in contacts. 

Kissing him felt so good, so right in that moment. Pulling him closer felt so fucking good, and feeling him press against him, cock already hard and eagerness driving his movements- it all felt so right. 

It felt right- but not right for Saeran. 

He had his suspicions the moment he was bent over, but turning over, facing the man, being laid back, and being told to look right at him- that’s when he knew. 

Yoosung didn’t stop him, not one bit. In fact, he followed along, and it was easy to forget. They looked so alike anyway, why not just pretend, if just for today? Literally no one could fault him- they were identical twins, obviously, he might make a mistake or two…

Of course, Saeran got done early on this one day. 

There was yelling, oh god there was so much yelling. Saeran drew a knife at one point. All three knew that in usual circumstances, he would never have threatened physical harm. But with everything weighing down, and his psyche being torn apart from the lack of trust- it sort of made him forget who he was. 

They had to get Vanderwood to intervene, and he drew a gun, pointing it at Saeran. Things got hairy. Threats were made. After about an hour of bickering, Saeran decided to pack up and leave. Out of all people- Zen offered him a couch to sleep on, so that was where he went. And Yoosung sulked. 

Saeran blamed him more than his brother. Yoosung knew he deserved it, but a hard-headed part of his brain insisted that he wasn’t at fault. Seven had tricked him! They were identical twins, and Seven dressed like him, acted like him- felt like him…

He tried to explain this to Saeran, but he didn’t seem to accept it for the most part. Yoosung had to swallow his pride and give in, after all, he didn’t want to lose Saeran in one fell swoop. 

It was just a little mistake, it really was, and he would swear by it. He refrained from talking to Seven for a while, and that was what hurt the most. Even in the chat, they would never delve into a private chat or even talk to each other directly in group chats. It helped prove the point for sure, at least to Saeran, that things were settling back to normal again- but oh god did it hurt to lose a best friend. 

One day, when Saeran had come to talk with Yoosung at his apartment, he asked harsh but very quiet, “Do you love him?”

And it was a hard question to answer. 

What even was love, to him at least?

He knew he loved Saeran, that was for sure. There was a fondness to him, a familiar feeling that didn’t make sense. Meeting him for the first time certainly evoked those feelings, and they only grew with intensity as the days passed into weeks, and then months- and then one day, he just asked.

Do you want to be my boyfriend? 

Saeran said yes. 

But then there was Seven. There were a lot of things to admire about him. He was genuine, protective, and had a love inside of him for friends and family that couldn’t be outmatched. He was passionate and enchanting, pulling you closer to him despite what he might have said about himself. There were certainly qualities about him that made him enticing. 

Maybe that was why he invited him over again. 

Yoosung didn’t know what to expect anymore, or if he should even feel guilty. At first- he just wanted to play video games (at least that’s what he would say if you asked), but as he thought and considered what he had said to Seven (‘Come over, let’s have some fun’), he knew that things wouldn’t unfold that way. 

“I’m gonna keep it, by the way.”

“Okay.”

Seven tugged him out of the chair and threw him onto the bed, climbing over him with intent before descending on his lips. Yoosung responded eagerly, tugging Seven’s hair and pulling him closer until the man’s glasses had bumped into his face. When Seven moved to take them off, Yoosung insisted he keep them on. 

It would get weird if he took them off. 

Everything was quick, heated, and raucous, filled with harsh pants and desperate moans. It was all of the things that Saeran wasn’t and all the things that Yoosung wanted. When Seven entered him, Yoosung gasped, and moaned, and clawed with desperation. Seven rocked hard into him, forcing out every gulp of air he tried to take and filling him in the best possible way.

It didn’t take long. Seven had a way with his fingers and body, and his voice was even more beckoning to him. Murmuring of soft phrases, promises of adoration and appreciation, panted into the crook of his neck, were all driving Yoosung insane. Seven was overwhelming to say the least, and Yoosung couldn’t help letting his name fall with aching groans. 

“Seven- Seven- uhhn, Seven-!”

 

The red-head covered Yoosung’s mouth flimsily, shaking his head. “S-top, no. Say Luciel, just say Luciel.” His voice was desperate and raspy, revealing how unwound and close to orgasm he really was. 

“Luciel-” Yoosung yelped as the thrusts picked up again, rocking into him with ravenous movements. The name felt surprisingly different, rolling off his tongue easily and tattering off into sharp moans. “Luciel- Luciel… god- fuck I’m so close-” Yoosung grasped tighter onto his shoulders, dipping his head back as Seven panted back. 

“Me too- me too-! Ungh- fuck I, fuck I love you, Yoosung. I fucking love you. I love you so much!” Yoosung knew that Seven meant it, every single word, and that made everything rack up even more. 

“Oh god- I- Luciel, I love you too-”

Just like that, everything snapped. Yoosung’s voice cut out into a loud whine as he climaxed, his cum spilling onto his stomach and body convulsing beneath Seven’s until slowly going limp. The little tingles racing up and down his body continued for long after, making the feeling of Seven filling him that much more intense. 

They basked for a while, chatting about more simple subjects instead of lamenting of what they had done. At around nine thirty, Seven skedaddled, promising to see him again soon, and Yoosung felt giddy. 

.

“Yoosung, I’m home!” 

Saeran kicked off his shoes and threw his work hat off to the side, already aching to get out of his uniform. He relished in the idea of calling this place home, and he felt a little bit of warmth develop in his chest at the thought. He looked around curiously- wondering where his boyfriend had gone- only to see a blonde head pop out from the bathroom. 

“Hey! I was just washing up before you came home…” He emerged in a bathrobe, rounding the couch so he could place a kiss on Saeran’s cheeks. “Hey… I love you.”

The words were soft, and affectionate, and filled Saeran’s heart with heat. He wondered why he didn’t trust Yoosung before, and vowed that he would from now on. 

“I love you too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saeran reflects on the incident with Yoosung and Seven, and about the time he spent a night at Zen's place.

Chapter 4

His therapist told him little tricks on how to handle his anxiety. Deep breaths. Fidgeting. Tapping feet, tapping fingers. Smell something nice. Feel something soft. 

What things make you happy? What things make you calm? Do you have someone you can turn to in those dark times?

Yes, Yoosung. Saeyoung knew too much about him, about the past, and he felt too guilty. He had things to work through too, but Yoosung was a blank slate. When they first met- it was that smile that really drew him in first. It was genuine, not pitiful, inviting, not judging, and Saeran knew he was someone he could trust. 

Yoosung made him happy. Yoosung made him feel calm. If he needed someone to turn to in dark times, when he’s anxious, self-destructive, horrifically angry- he turned to Yoosung. 

Saeran loved Yoosung.

-

 **“What are you doing?”** Of course, the question is useless. He knew exactly what they were doing. If Saeran were honest, a good portion of that instant was a blur. He barely remembered Saeyoung pulling his clothes on in a hurry and Yoosung scrambling to make himself look less bare. 

Saeyoung was talking about it being a mistake when Saeran had drawn the knife. Somewhere along the way, he had pinned his brother to the table, pressing the edge of the knife to his throat. What else was he expected to do to the person that ripped the rug out from under him? Saeyoung struggled against him, and there was screaming (probably from Yoosung, but Saeran can’t quite remember), and then a firm voice cut through it all. 

“Saeran. Put your hands up or I will be forced to shoot you.”

Vanderwood inched closer, gun trained at Saeran’s shoulder. Trained professionally, he knew better than to step any closer, but a sentiment (however small that may be) in his heart kept him from shooting right then and there. 

Saeran remained still, staring sharp at Vanderwood. Both men seemed stunned for a moment in each other’s presences, eyes clouded with neutral force. When Saeran stayed paused for a couple seconds longer, Vanderwood turned off the safety, finger poised at the trigger. 

“Saeran. Don’t make me shoot you. Back off.”

Saeran finally felt nervous as he stared down the barrel of the gun, the hand holding the knife trembling just the slightest bit. His grip weakened, and Saeyoung found the chance to wiggle out and push him away. The adrenalin began to seep away, and as he gained control of his mindset, Saeran had dropped the knife. Vanderwood lowered his gun and approached Saeran slowly as Yoosung gently eased a nervous Saeyoung

He said something, maybe, asking him if he was okay? Saeran couldn’t place it, couldn’t hear it. All he could do was stare as Yoosung looked over Saeyoung, brow curled in concern, holding him, so close- so close…

He ran. He ran as much as he could, all until his lungs began to burn, and his legs wobbled like jello. He panted as he fell, kneeling on the pavement of a nearly empty parking lot. For the first time in a while, he cried. 

It came like a waterfall, burning his eyes and making his vision too blurry to even see the lines in the lot. Yet again- all good things had been taken from him- and it was all his brother’s fault…

Saeran’s pocket vibrated viciously, text after text trying to convince him to pay attention. He couldn’t look at it, not yet. Although anger at his brother was at its high, for some reason, thinking of Yoosung made his gut feel empty, his heart sinking, and tears brimming in his eyes. Thinking of Yoosung usually never had that effect.

He stewed for a while longer, just sitting in the parking lot of the 24-hour grocery center. After some time, and the honking of a few cars, he got up and moved to the curbside next to the store, hanging his head and wondering if he should really check his phone. It was worth a shot, or perhaps it wasn’t, Saeran wasn’t sure. He pulled out his phone. 

**Yoosung**  
I’m sorry  
**Yoosung**  
Where are you?  
**Yoosung**  
Saeran please  
**Yoosung**  
I’m sorry  
**Yoosung**  
I’m so sorry  
**Yoosung**  
Where are you? I’m getting worried  
**Yoosung**  
Please come back  
**Yoosung**  
Please  
**Yoosung**  
Saeran  
**Yoosung**  
Saeran?  
**Yoosung**  
I’m sorry

Saeran just looked, he didn’t bother sending a response. He wasn’t sure what to say, so why bother?

He sighed and tried to think of what to do next. He couldn’t go back, obviously not. He couldn’t just sit here either. There was no where to go, was there? Obviously not Yoosung’s apartment or his house. Jaehee didn’t seem to comfortable around him, so he couldn’t ask her. Jumin was just too harsh and would ask too many questions. V was a no go, again, for obvious reasons. And Zen would-

What would Zen do? He didn’t seem to ask too many questions, the sort of guy that just waits for you to talk to him. He wasn’t too handsy or nervous towards him. Sure, he was hard to talk to at times cause he seemed to step on eggshells every now and then, but other than that he wasn’t a bad guy. But would he even help or care…

At this point, it was still worth a shot, right?

It was eleven at night, but it only took two rings for Zen to answer. 

“Hey, oh, Saeran yeah? What’s up?”

“Can I come over.”

It isn’t a question, or at least it doesn’t sound like it. Saeran can swear he hears the sadness in his own voice, but Zen doesn’t seemed faze. He hesitates for a moment before answering back. 

“Uhm- come over? Can I ask why?”

“Can’t go home.”

“You can’t?” Zen doesn’t seem to understand why not, but again, he doesn’t ask too many questions. “Sure- yeah you can come over. Do I need to pick you up?”

“Yes. At Roofreds.”

“Roofreds, the one on Vine Street?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

That was one of the differences between Yoosung and Zen. Yoosung always asked questions. Why do you feel so bad? What can I do to help you feel better? Why have you been so sad all the time? Why have you been so nervous all the time? Why? Why? Why?

Zen didn’t ask. He observed, he waited, he never probed unless it was needed. He had done his fair share of learning about human behavior, and it was a nice difference. 

Another difference to be noted was the way they carried themselves. Zen had a calmness to him, especially in his voice. Yoosung was prone to yelling, mostly about things he was excited about or when he was playing his games, and it was scary sometimes. Then there was Zen- he was calmer, more soft spoken but confident. Saeran knew it wasn’t necessarily natural to him. It was as though, when he was around Saeran, he had the respect to remain contained, reaching out only slightly, as though waiting to see how Saeran would respond. 

It was nice. 

He remembered a time when Yoosung wouldn’t respond to his messages, and Zen did instead. An anxiety attack a day was normal, but this one in particular was almost painful. Saeran was rocking in his bed, tapping his fingers and trying to breathe, but every inhale felt like a dagger to his chest. 

He called Yoosung once, twice, three, no five different times, but he never answered. Saeran couldn’t face Saeyoung, not like this, not to have his overbearing attitude constrict him. He opened the chatrooms to see what was happening, see if talking to someone about something random would calm him. Jumin and Zen were mid-argument about some useless subject; Saeran watched as the text flew across his screen in a flurry of motions he couldn’t register. 

Eventually, Jumin exited with the excuse of business, and it was just him and Zen. He said something about how Jumin was so overbearing when Saeran finally said something. 

**Saeran,**  
Call.  
Now.  
Please.

Within seconds, Zen was calling him, and Saeran hesitated in actually answering. When he did though, he was greeted by an almost angelic voice. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Zen was calm, soft, but certainly not meek. When Saeran didn’t respond for a while, he tried again. “Are you alright? What’s going on, Saeran?”

Saeran sighed, his breathing in harsh pants that he swore Zen could hear. “Panicking. I usually call Yoosung but- buh- he’s not responding- didn’t know- what to do.” He gulps, throat dry and chest constricting. “-’M sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Zen interjects quickly, still calm, still gentle. “Nothing to be sorry about, alright? Why don’t you grab something to drink and relax in bed, alright? We’ll just talk for a while…”

Saeran does as he says, grabbing a glass of water (shakily) and sinking back under the covers. “I’m not bothering- you- am I?” His breath has grown a little softer, but he still feels tingly and cold. 

“Not at all. I was just watching television. Are you drinking the water?”

“Yes- had some. Under the covers.”

“Good, that’s good. Now, can you think of anything that I can do to help you?”

“Can-” Saeran takes a shallow breath. “Can we just- talk?”

Zen pauses, giving a short laugh. “Sure. I got a new role recently, want to hear about it?”

“Sure.”

They ended up talking for an hour and a half, mostly about Zen and his past, as it seemed that he liked talking about himself. By the end of it, Saeran was substantially better, if only extremely exhausted- but he liked talking. In fact, he was responding, adding little quips and pokes at certain things Zen said. There was something about his voice that was soothing, like melted chocolate or sweet honey, like sleeping on cotton or silk. It enveloped him gently and wholey. 

-

The rumble of a motorcycle didn’t really shock him. It sounded like a tiger, and Saeran kind of liked tigers. He perked up a little when the rumbling ceased and a person approached him. He grabbed the helmet that was handed to him, not looking Zen in the eye just yet. 

Silence was okay for the moment, and Zen seemed to accept it with ease. Saeran hopped on, hooking his arms around the other’s waist loosely as they took off. Riding on a motorcycle took his breath away, made him tingly in a way that mimicked anxiety. It was terrifying for the most part, and the only consolation he had was pressing into Zen tighter. 

At Zen’s place, Saeran becomes eerily silent, yet again though, Zen says nothing. They dismount and go inside, and Zen leaves to grab blankets and a pillow while Saeran stews in the entryway. He doesn’t know why it feels alright to be here, why he feels welcome. He couldn’t explain it- when first walking into Yoosung’s apartment, he felt like something was expected of him. 

He couldn’t explain it. 

He plops down on the couch when Zen re-enters, setting the blankets and pillow off to the side. Zen’s silent, but not in that frightening sense. Saeran knows he’s waiting, waiting to see if there’s anything else he can do other than provide a place to sleep, waiting to see if Saeran would say something to him, waiting to see if Saeran would answer the questions he had. 

“Do you need anything else?” He asks gently, giving a small smile, a genuine, non-pitiful, welcoming smile. 

“I…” Saeran’s mouth was just a little less dry, although his voice shook. “I wanna talk about it for a bit…”

Saeran surprises himself with how much he can talk, and he’s even more surprised at how well Zen seems to listen to him. All of his problems pour out like water from the tap, and Zen just nods along, asking small questions every now and then, adding a little comment a few times, and when he’s finished with his story- Zen sighs. 

“Geeze. I’m sorry if this sounds kinda bland but… that really fucking sucks.” Saeran smiles a little, just a little. That answer is bland, dull, it doesn’t help- but it makes the conversation just a little bit pleasant. Like they’re two friends just talking. Zen doesn’t have that pity, at least not for the way Saeran had grown up. It was just sadness for this situation, like the past was behind them, and Saeran found peace in that. “I don’t know if there’s any way I can really help, maybe I could talk to Yoosung a bit,” Zen offers meekly, “But- I really think the best way to get through this is for you to mend yourself. A relationship won’t work if you’re so conflicted…”

At first, Saeran seems pissed, as well he should be. Up until now, his childhood was unspoken, and things were fine that way. Zen seems to catch the drift, and he gives a disappointed sigh. “I don’t mean- I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, Saeran. But I know a man with insecurities when I see it. What I’m saying is- you’re conflicted with yourself. I don’t know why, and you don’t have to tell me, but you have to work through that conflict. Once that’s done- we can deal with Seven and Yoosung…” 

Zen stands, about to leave, and he gives a parting glance to Saeran. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable, and he feels guilty for overstepping his boundaries- and for some reason, Saeran doesn’t like that. He reaches out, grabbing Zen by the sleeve, and Zen turns back curiously. 

Saeran’s mouth gapes like a fish, bewilderment clear on his face. “I- I…” He takes a deep breath to steady his voice so he doesn’t sound so dumb. “Thank you- for everything.”

Zen smiles suddenly, a big, cheek raising smile. “You’re welcome- but I am more than happy to help. You’re my friend.” He responds, taking a step forward. Saeran loses his grip, and Zen seems to contemplate saying something. “Can- can I give you a hug, Saeran? I feel like we are both in dire need of a hug right now.”

Another smile, very small, develops on Saeran’s face, and he shuffles forward into the hug. It’s warm, inviting, soft- it gives him a full feeling in his heart. Unlike every other physical contact, even with Yoosung at times, it doesn’t give him a bit of anxiety. He felt, in that moment, that things WOULD get better. 

And yes, even now, in these dark times, Saeran did have someone to turn to. 

He could turn to Zen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven starts repenting for his sins. However, he quickly finds out that kicking a bad habit is very difficult.

Chapter 5

If you had asked Seven if he was proud of himself, he would answer no. Obviously not, he wasn’t proud of himself, why would he be? He felt horrible. Every night as he laid in bed restless or tapped away on his computer, his thoughts were meandering to the empty room just down the hall and how he had caused it to be that way. 

At first- that was enough to deter him from any funny business. 

It stayed that way, at least for a while. 

One night, nearly the early morning, Seven was hard at work- despite his lingering thoughts. His phone buzzed, and he knew it was a text message by that vibration. 

Seven sat up a bit straighter, eyes lingering on his phone, wondering if he should dare to even open it and look at the message. Who would even be contacting him, after all of that? Those many weeks ago- it had seemed like such a good idea. What was he even thinking? How could he betray his own brother like that? Destroy every bit of bonding they had done- and after everything? 

He chanced a moment to just look over the message.

 **Yoosung:**  
Saeran’s been going to therapy more  
He seems really happy

Oh yes, of course it was Yoosung. Seven gave the slightest smile, glad that at least Saeran was beginning to recover. 

**707:**  
Good  
At least I didn’t ruin him completely

Seven plopped the phone off to the side, considering the conversation over and setting his fingers on the keyboard- only for his phone to vibrate again. Great- Yoosung had more to say- and Seven wasn’t sure if he liked talking to him anymore. 

**Yoosung:**  
You really should try talking to him  
If you stay silent, he will only resent you more  
At least you can try

 **707:**  
I don’t know  
He’ll probably never want to talk to me again  
So what’s the point?

Yoosung doesn’t respond for a long time. After about thirty minutes, Seven figures he went to bed, tired of trying to talk sense to him. In all honesty- Seven was surprised that Yoosung was barely affected by this whole fiasco- after buying into that disguise…

Hadn’t he felt foolish? Cheated? Taken advantage of?

Seven picks up his phone again. 

**707:**  
I’m sorry  
For everything  
Again  
I’m not sure what else I can do to make it up to you

 **Yoosung:**  
I’m not angry with you  
Save your apologies for Saeran

Seven isn’t sure how to respond without just sending a bland ‘yeah’, so he leaves it be for a while. Yoosung texts him again within minutes. 

**Yoosung:**  
You should come over sometime  
I miss hanging out with you  
Playing games and relaxing  
It gets lonely sometimes  
You’re my best friend

Seven felt a little bad. Jesus- what HAD he been thinking? He had hurt Yoosung, perhaps not completely from ruining his trust, but also taking away his closest friend. Why was he so selfish?

 **707:**  
I’m sorry things ended up this way  
I really am  
But I don’t think I can come over with Saeran there

 **Yoosung:**  
He’s got work every day except for Monday and Wednesday  
He usually closes  
You could come over on Thursday at around six

There is a pause on Seven’s part. Already- there was all this planning on visiting? It felt strange- like going behind Saeran’s back, and he felt a little guilty even entertaining the idea. 

**Yoosung:**  
Shit I’m sorry  
I guess I sounded a little carried away  
I just really miss you

Seven’s chest ached at the words. He took a deep breath, contemplating on rather or not to actually take him up on the offer. They were just getting together to hang out, maybe eat some snacks, play a few rounds of LOLOL,watch a movie… then he’d come back home before Saeran came back, just so there wouldn’t be any fighting. 

Meanwhile- he could start reaching out to Saeran, see if he can slowly begin to mend things. Perhaps- he wouldn’t have to lose either of them.

 **707:**  
Sure  
See you Thursday

-

True to his word, Seven arrived at Yoosung’s apartment on Thursday, an hour after Saeran left for work. In tow, he brought a laptop, some PhD pepper, and a couple bags of Honey Buddha Chips- cause if he was gonna mend things he was going to do it right. 

Yoosung answered, a big grin spread across his face as he greeted the other, ushering him inside quickly. 

“I brought snacks!” Seven first announced, just about throwing them all onto the coffee table in the living area. Yoosung seemed to be rummaging through a pile of DVDs, perhaps searching for a good movie to watch, while Seven plopped down on the couch and checked his phone. 

Still nothing. 

“I, uhh- texted Saeran a few times the other day. I wanted to see if he’d respond but he didn’t…” Seven manages to say just barely croaking. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting Saeran to answer him at all- maybe not even for a couple months. He wouldn’t blame him…

“Mmm, Saeran told me. He was pissed…” Yoosung admits softly, eventually picking out a movie and putting the disk in. “But- you know how he is. Once the outside anger blows over, it’ll be easier to reach out to him.”

Seven found it easier to talk to Yoosung about his brother, and this was strange to him. Out of everyone he never would have pegged Yoosung to be the one he would share most of his inner thoughts with. Not that he was complaining either. 

Yoosung pressed play and grabbed a can of the PhD pepper, and suddenly, things were back to normal. 

-

Things were going smoothly for the most part, like things were as they should be. They made little jokes about the movie (a cheap horror, what is with those effects?!) and had casual chit chat. At one point, Yoosung offered Seven a different kind of drink, just some hard lemonade that he had picked up a week ago and just hadn’t opened up yet. 

Seven didn’t think much of it, and accepted. After his third one, he finally noticed the change in atmosphere. 

Yoosung was fidgeting, looking anywhere but towards Seven, and shuffling awkwardly when he popped in another movie (they decided against games because of how easily they could lose track of time). When he plopped back on the couch, rubbing his hands on his jeans, Seven decided to address it. 

Maybe it was because of the strangeness of the situation, or maybe it was because of the liquor loosening his tongue, but he asked it so casually, “You’re thinking back about that day aren’t you?”

Yoosung squeaks and stares at him sharply, blush rising in his cheeks. “What do you mean? I-I’m not thinking about anything-!”

Seven laughs a little, taking one last, big sip of his drink to finish it off and plopping the glass onto the table. “I wasn’t thinking like- y’know- the good stuff, heh. Uhm- I guess like- the whole…” What was he even saying anymore? “The trust stuff and- and yeah…”

“Oh.” Yoosung swallows, shuffling a little. “I- at first, I did feel a little betrayed- and heartbroken after talking with Saeran for a while. But I- I…”

Seven frowns a little, tilting his head, waiting expectantly. Things had never really been difficult to talk about between them- up until now. It was worrying, it hurt really bad in his chest, and Seven deeply wished that, in time, Yoosung would come to talk to him about anything again without restraint. “What is it, Yoosung?”

Yoosung gulped, gripping at his jeans again. “It- it felt good. That night felt really good and- and I think about it a lot. Does- does that make me a bad person, Seven?” God he looked worried, and his eyes were glistening with the threat of tears. 

“No- no you’re not a bad person, Yoosung. You shouldn’t feel bad about… well, enjoying sex, right?” Seven nestled a little closer, setting a comforting hand on Yoosung’s shoulder. 

“I- I guess, not with sex or…” He sniffles, lip quaking and shoulders trembling. “I just don’t know what to do anymore, with Saeran. Even before that, he was pushing me away no matter what I did. I thought we were getting closer and he would still push me away and- and- I liked it so much. I thought you were him, I really did, even though it was so against him. I just gave in cause finally- finally we… we…”

“Shh- you don’t have to explain your thoughts to me, Yoosung. You’re not obligated to that.” Seven’s chest was constricting, knowing damn well that so much of this was his fault. Although, another part of him was kind of relieved at least with just knowing that they had problems before this whole mess. When Yoosung began to slowly calm down, Seven retracted a little, offering a small smile. “Want another drink?”

“Mm, please.”

-

“I wanted him all the time- I still want him. I’ve had dreams of touching him and loving him in that way and- I don’t know. It just feels like he’s not willing to have me like that. Like- like he doesn’t love me enough to do that…” 

Their position was strangely intimate, with Yoosung laying on the couch and his head in Seven’s lap while Seven petted through his hair. Seven was lending his ear to everything that Yoosung wanted to say. He had the feeling that Yoosung was holding a lot of his feelings in for a long time, since he did have a lot to say. 

“Have you tried talking to him about it? Not just- oh- I don’t like this but actually talking about your feelings and what you want in the relationship?” Seven didn’t know what advice to give, he was simply asking questions from the Dr. Phillip show. 

Yoosung sighed, adjusting a little in Seven’s lap that almost made him uncomfortable. “No. He doesn’t really like talking to me about emotions. He always clams up and gives short answers and- well- it stresses me out. I always feel like he’s upset with the way he acts and- and even now, with the therapy, he’s shutting himself off again and…” His words were getting ahead of him, and he seemed to lose his train of thought. Yoosung exhaled loudly and nuzzled into Seven’s thigh, almost making him jerk. “I just want to feel wanted…”

In that moment, Seven knew that he was wrapped up again, being tugged back into the complicatedness of his emotions. He had loved Yoosung back then, enough to ruin everything for himself and his brother, and dammit- he still loved him. 

Seven wanted him. He wanted to love him, to please him, to make him satisfied in a way that no one else could. He wanted to be there whenever he needed him. He didn’t want him to be so upset like this…

Saeran didn’t deserve this whole mess. He deserved a better brother. He deserved someone who would understand him. He deserved to be pampered and taken care of and Yoosung tried, he certainly did try, he was still trying but- after everything, it wasn’t enough. 

“You gave me that.” Yoosung’s words shook Seven to attention, and his breath hitched, cheeks blowing into pink hue as Yoosung looked back up at him. He felt the blonde’s hand threading into his hair, tugging him a little closer. “You made me feel wanted and loved and… fulfilled…”

“Yoosung,” Seven spoke out in warning, firm enough to keep him from pulling too close. “You’re drunk.”

“A little bit.” Yoosung admits, licking his lips and only grabbing more of Seven’s attention. “It doesn’t change my feelings though.”

Yoosung was stronger than Seven though- or perhaps Seven had finally relented, and finally got pulled down into a sloppy kiss. 

Things moved so fast. Yoosung had kicked off his shoes and pants and was pulling down his boxers when Seven had finally managed to pull his own shirt off. Yoosung didn’t seem to bother with it, shoving his underwear down just enough to slip in one of his own spit-covered fingers, very quickly fingering himself open.

Seven raced to catch up to him, kicking off the rest of his clothes and rummaging through Yoosung’s dresser (don’t ask him how he knows where to look, he just does) to find a condom and some lube. When he comes back, Yoosung is on all fours, one arm propping him up on the armrest of the couch while the other is reaching back, already shoving into the knuckle on his third finger. 

Yoosung released a desperate sigh as Seven approached, withdrawing his fingers. “Please, Seven. I need to feel that again. Fulfilled, wanted, loved- god please give to me.”

For some reason, he didn’t need any coaxing.

Seven bit open the package and slipped the condom on before lubing up and taking his spot behind Yoosung. He stroked his cock a few times, biting down a groan as he positioned the head and pushed in slowly. 

Yoosung cried out with him, gripping the armrest tightly as he pushed his hips back, trying to take all of what Seven was giving him. Fully seated, Seven leaned over him, wrapping his arms around Yoosung’s waist and holding him close. 

“I’ll give you- everything. Anything you could want…”

-

Seven left almost immediately afterward, but not just because of Saeran returning. The churning in his gut was to blame, making him almost too sick to even consider cuddling Yoosung afterward. 

He knew he didn’t deserve it. He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. Yet here he was, climbing into his car and taking a moment to just sit there. He pulled out his phone, thinking of what to say to Yoosung after leaving so suddenly. 

**707:**  
I’ll see you Sunday

Within the time it took to sigh and rub his forehead, his phone buzzed, and he felt his chest constrict in guilt and excitement in that one moment. 

**Yoosung:**  
Bring more lube :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life seems to be acting just a little bit sweeter as it gives Saeran a surprise day off. So, naturally, Saeran decides to spice the relationship up a bit, and what better way to do that than with wine and flowers? He's sure to surprise Yoosung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my oh my, we only have one chapter left after this folks. Thanks to everyone who stuck through me with this! Much love to all of you~ <3

Chapter 6

Saeran’s jaw dropped. He saw it, he was sure- so very fucking sure. He trusted them, he believed everything they said- and here it was right in front of him-

The schedule book. 

As things turned out, his manager had switched his shift to another day without telling him. At least he found out now instead of the day he is now supposed to work. Saeran, at first, was pissed off about his time being wasted, but then a thought came to mind. 

He could surprise Yoosung. 

Saeran wasn’t dumb. He knew that, for a while, Yoosung felt a little bit neglected. Lately, he had even refrained from a lot of kissing and hugging, perhaps feeling as though Saeran didn’t want it. But Saeran did want kisses, and he did want hugs- so he tried to think of a way to make it up to him, perhaps bringing a little romance into the relationship…?

He had heard flowers usually did the trick. 

He stopped by a flower shop and bought a simple bouquet, then he went to the nearest supermarket and bought a bottle of wine (cause that was romantic too, right?). Saeran strolled with a skip in his step, halfway wishing that maybe Yoosung would be taking a nap when he got back. If so- he could quickly change out of his uniform into something that didn’t smell like grease…

Saeran was proud of himself for thinking of all these things on the spot. This had to make Yoosung happy, right? 

Otherwise- what would he do?

As he turned down on their street (theirs- wow) and saw the apartment, he kept thinking of the same issue that had plagued him for months- intimacy. He knew Yoosung had those urges. He knew, deep down, he had similar urges too. But every time they had gotten together like that- something was always stopping him. There was a tremble that never ceased, crawling under his skin and making him nervous. Maybe that came from the idea of being vulnerable; Saeran wasn’t too sure. He’d push away, and Yoosung would be hurt…

It just felt too gross. 

It wasn’t necessarily the idea of Yoosung that was gross, of course not. It was being touched in that way, felt sexually, explored so… so thoroughly that was gross. 

Saeran gulped, fidgeting in front of the apartment complex. He busied himself with checking the mailbox first, thumbing through the pages of a magazine. What if he just- gave in? It wouldn’t be so bad, right? Besides, if that’s what Yoosung wanted- wasn’t he supposed to give it to him? They were boyfriends after all...

He didn’t want to lose him. 

Dawdling was of no use to him anymore. With a slight kick of confidence, Saeran climbed the stairs to their apartment, a bouquet in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He was going to sweep Yoosung off his feet, that was for sure. 

Saeran entered the apartment, swelling a little bit in excitement to see that Yoosung, indeed, was not in the living room. Probably in bed, taking a nap after being up so late. He was about to kick off his shoes when he heard a sound. 

A moan.

A name. 

“L-Luciel-!”

In an instant, his breath was sapped away, and his heart had stopped beating. This- it wasn’t real, right? It couldn’t possibly be real, right? He stood there, numb and unmoving, staring at Yoosung’s closed bedroom door. His grip on the wine tightened, close enough to just about break it. 

Please, just say it was a mistake. He didn’t hear it right. Please. 

A harsh grunt made its presence known with ease, the echo of ‘Yoosung’ accompanying it. The voice was familiar in a sickening way. “God- I love you.”

Then Yoosung gasped, whimpering soon after in response, “I love you too, Luciel.”

That was it. That was all he needed to hear. 

The instinct to throw the wine came first, and with it came the urge to scream out profanities. He wanted to burst in there, baring his pocket knife and slurring obscenities. But Saeran didn’t do any of those things. Instead- he walked out, closing the door quietly enough so they wouldn’t hear, and he left. 

The streets seemed uncharacteristically empty as he walked, his steps even producing the quietest echo. He couldn’t remember a time where he felt this empty. His chest was hollow, and not a single thought passed his mind other than counting the squares of pavement. Hell- was he even breathing, or was he just perpetually holding it?

He didn’t know why he continued to hold on to his precious romantic items. There was no longer a use for them, he could just throw them out or hand them to some stranger. Or even better- he could smash that goddamn bottle and tear apart those fucking flowers. 

It seemed though that today was the day for Saeran to do things differently. 

At a nearby park, he sat on one of the benches and pulled out his swiss army knife to pop open the wine bottle. It was strange, and he probably looked like some crazed lunatic just sitting at the park chugging from a wine bottle, but he didn’t really care. 

After drinking about a fourth of it, he set it down hard and tried to calm his hiccups. It helped, but only a little bit. This was a drink to share with a loved one, huh? It tasted so sour…

He wasn’t sure what he was doing for awhile. Saeran tapped on his phone, scrolling through social media and checking over chatrooms. At one point, he called Zen, and he pressed the phone against his face. 

Zen picked up quickly, joy clear in his voice. “Hey, Saeran! I haven’t heard from you in a wh-”

“Shut up I don’t wanna hear your pity…” Saeran drawls back, glaring at the name on his phone screen of the man he was talking to. “I’m drunk and sitting at a park- needa ride!”

“You- you’re drunk at the park?” 

“Eyah? Obviously.” Saeran grunted, clicking his tongue. “Do you think I could camp here?”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything reckless.” 

Zen hangs up immediately after, and Saeran just stares at his phone dumbly. 

Before long, Zen had arrived. It didn’t look like he had brought his bike, or at least from what Saeran could see. Zen stopped a few feet away, a mix of concern and yearning on his face. “Saeran… why are you sitting here all by yourself?”

It was crawling towards night time, the sun already halfway in its setting phase. Saeran didn’t remember how that happened without his knowledge. He scoffs, nibbling on his bottom lip. “Take a fucking guess- bet you be right and shit…” He blinks and glances at Zen, holding up the bottle of wine. “Want some?”

Zen shakes his head, stepping forward a bit more. He didn’t take a guess, but he obviously knew, or at least had an idea of what had happened. He looks over Saeran, taking note of his work uniform and the small bouquet of flowers laying off to the side. He summons a small laugh, giving a cute smile to Saeran. “Awe- you got me flowers? So sweet.”

And Saeran laughs back, loud, and snickering in a way that only drunkenness would produce. He grabs the bouquet, holding it out to Zen. “Nah-it wasn’t for you. But I think you deserve it anyway, after everything…”

Zen grabbed the bouquet with a few quiet laughs, giving them a sniff before giving an exaggerated sigh of contentment. He leaned against the bench, looking at Saeran with curiosity, wondering what to offer him. At least, for now, he could offer one thing. “Would you like to come over?”

And Saeran nodded with a hushed ‘yes’. 

-

As it turned out, Zen had walked, and that was why Saeran had never heard the bike coming. He complained when they started walking, his legs shaky and mind a little foggy. It grew colder within that short thirty minutes of walking, and when Saeran shivered, Zen slipped off his coat and offered it to him. 

Saeran took him up on that. 

“You should drink something else- like water,” is the first thing Zen says when they enter his apartment. Saeran stumbles a little, making a sort of grumbled affirmation before plopping onto the couch with strange familiarity. He’s still wearing Zen’s jacket- he notices… 

He doesn’t take it off. 

Zen hands him a glass of water, producing a raised brow until Saeran obeys in drinking it. As always, he didn’t ask any questions as he ran off, grabbing some blankets and pillows and even a spare pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. It took a little bit more convincing for Saeran to get out of his work clothes (he’d have to take the jacket off and it was just too comforting), but again, Zen had coaxed him into it. 

Saeran stood numbly in the bathroom, the events of the day beginning to catch up and the wine’s effects starting to dwindle. And oh god- he wanted to cry. His hands gripped the lip of the sink, his head sinking and the tears already welling up. Why- what had he done wrong? Why wasn’t he enough? It had to be the intimacy, the touching- he kept pushing Yoosung away and Yoosung…

Wanted more. 

He sobbed for awhile and struggled out of his work clothes. His body felt incredibly weak, and every breath was a labor in itself. What was he supposed to do anymore? After everything- he was alone again. He didn’t have Yoosung to turn to, he didn’t have his brother. He didn’t have anyone. 

When Saeran stepped out of the bathroom, Zen instantly stood and approached him at seeing the expression he was wearing. Saeran tried to contain himself, he really did, but when Zen reached out gingerly, brow curled up and lips pursed in question- he broke down. 

Zen’s hands shot out, moving to hug Saeran without asking permission. He appreciated it, especially since he wouldn’t be able to respond anyway. He pressed tight into Zen’s chest, his entire body shaking with each desperate breath of air as he made louder and louder weeps. For a long time, nearly thirty minutes, they just stood there in a tight embrace; Saeran was crying, and Zen was rubbing his back giving the softest murmurs of ‘everything will be okay’ and ‘I am here for you’. 

After so much crying, his nose had gotten clogged and made it incredibly difficult to speak. Zen pulled him to the couch and scampered off, soon coming back with a roll of toilet paper. “Sorry- I don’t really have any tissues left,” he confessed, and the bashful look combined with his softened voice made Saeran laugh. 

“It’s okay…” Saeran blows his nose, the action only made more gross with how much crying he had done, but Zen doesn’t even seem to flinch. After some time spent dedicated to wiping his face free of tears and snot, Zen finally speaks again. 

“Did you want to talk about it?” 

Saeran knew that this would be the one and only time he asked, and after that- he would wait until he came to him to talk. He was tired of waiting though, he was so fucking tired of just waiting for things to turn out okay. He nods. 

“They did it again,” from the corner of his eye, he sees Zen tense up, but he doesn’t make Saeran stop. “I thought before it was a mistake, that Seven was just a fucking asshole and trying to ruin my life. My manager gave me off today and- well- I got flowers and wine cause Yoosung had been so out of it recently and- and…” 

His throat clogged up, and suddenly everything was so much harder to think about let alone talk about. He felt Zen’s hand rubbing gentle circles into his back again, giving him the most genuine expression of concern and care. What had he done to have Zen caring about him so much? Was it just because they were friends?

“They were there- together. I heard them and- and I just ran. I couldn’t do anything. I- I- why would he do this?” Saeran could feel more tears, despite his body tired from sobs, and he buried his face in his hands. 

Zen scooted closer, gently pulling Saeran into a hug once more. “Because he’s being a fucking idiot, that’s why.” Are his first words, but Saeran doesn’t completely believe him. He doesn’t know what he’s saying- he doesn’t know the situation.Yoosung had a reason. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Saeran. Please try to understand that.”

Saeran shook his head and wiggled away. “No, no you don’t understand, Zen.” He surprised himself with how calm his voice sounded. “I- he was lonely. He felt like I didn’t love him. Hell I was so nervous to just cuddle him at times, let alone make out or… or… have sex,” his voice wavered as he hissed in a breath. “That’s what he wanted, and I knew it. He put up without it for so long and I just- I just kept pushing him away. Maybe- maybe I should have just let him. Just let him do what he wanted to me…”

A firm grip on his shoulders makes Saeran clam up. He’s forcefully turned to face Zen and given one of the most aggressive and fearful expression he’s ever seen from the man. “No! No- don’t you say that! You didn’t, you don’t owe him anything!” Zen seemed to realize how frightening he might have been, since he took a deep breath to calm himself. “That isn’t how it works, not in healthy relationships. It’s not a ‘you owe me this’ or ‘I owe you that’. It’s working together, it’s getting better together, it’s loving each other and not… not fucking some other guy because you won’t give yourself over to him.”

Saeran still didn’t understand him, and Zen knew this. This was probably his first proper relationship, of course it would shape his whole perception of love and what it meant. Perhaps- talking about it so in depth now was not a good idea. 

Zen exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair and looking off, wondering how to phrase his next line of thought. “Saeran, I’m going to ask you a question, but you don’t have to answer now. You can wait for a while, a couple days or a week even. But- alright, I’ll just say it. Do you want to move in here, with me?” 

Saeran’s eyes widen, and he tilts his head curiously. 

“I know it’s not ideal. It’s a small place and you’d be sleeping on the couch- and it’s kind of far away from your work. But- but I’d like you to be here and not wandering around on the streets or, god forbid, having to live with one of those two. And I’m usually out until late rehearsing, so it’s not like you’re imposing yourself on me…” The way he described it seemed like he was almost begging Saeran to stay there, and it only served to make him slightly more concerned. 

He didn’t give an answer though, and he didn’t give a yes, a no, not even a maybe. He said he’d think about it, and Zen seemed happy enough with that.

After another hour or so of just sitting and trying to recuperate from everything (this was mostly done by going through old chats between Zen and Jumin, stewing over the strange differences between the two and why they hated each other so much. Saeran found it humorous and teased Zen about it), Zen was finally departing to his room while Saeran nestled into the couch, bringing the blankets up to his nose and breathing in the scent it had. 

It still hurt, it hurt so much. He didn’t know what he was going to do now with himself. His heart felt so heavy, in a way that seemed unchangeable. Would anything go back to normal- what even was normal?

Saeran sat up and went to the bathroom with the intention of splashing cold water into his face (maybe it would help the puffiness of his eyes?), and that’s when he noticed Zen’s jacket still lying on the bathroom floor. He grabbed it, feeling out the leather. It was a well-worn jacket and smelled distinctly like him. 

He slept with the jacket in his grip that night. Despite everything that had happened, his sleep was peaceful and without nightmares. 

Saeran blamed it on the jacket.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saeran reflects on how he got to be staying at Zen's house. He also makes a few friends and learns to accept himself.

Chapter 7: Epilogue

He said yes. 

To say that he was surprised was an understatement. Saeran was astounded, offended, and so very saddened when a day passed, then a week, then a month. He hadn’t gotten any word back from Yoosung or Saeyoung- not even a sorry. 

He stewed about it for longer than he would’ve liked. He didn’t eat much and ended up laying on Zen’s couch for three straight days (he was serious about that too, he only got up to use the bathroom). The only time he did eat was when Zen happened to make food for himself or brought something back after a late night rehearsal. Even then, he would only eat a few bites before shutting himself down. 

He missed an appointment. 

Saeran had actually gotten a call from his therapist, the instance being especially worrying to her since he had been so diligent with appointments recently. She made him reschedule, despite all of his denials that he needed appointments anymore. They seemed like too much trouble, so why go?

Zen happened to be there when he was talking with her. 

He pulled out a small schedule book and opened it up to next month, writing down what he had overheard. Once Saeran ended the call, Zen asked about it. 

“I’m not going,” Saeran said first. “It’s pointless- it never helped me. It just gave me dumb expectations…”

Zen had softened a bit, setting his schedule book off to the side. Saeran had looked so tattered and worn. He still had Zen’s clothes on from many days ago, and work was starting to get annoyed with the days he had been calling in. Zen had been meaning to make Saeran’s stay more comfortable, but work was always getting in the way. 

What a better time than now, he supposed. 

Yoosung was shocked, to say the least. He didn’t seem to completely comprehend why Zen was there. Zen had just started grabbing things, all of Saeran’s clothes, his computer and electronics, hair products and soaps he liked, and more importantly- his medication. When Yoosung had seen what Zen was doing, the boy seemed to instantly clam up. 

By the time Zen was done retrieving all of Saeran’s stuff, Yoosung had holed himself up in his computer. Zen didn’t seem too affected. Yoosung wasn’t worth his time. He didn’t even say goodbye. 

Ironically enough, Zen ran right into Seven soon after as he was mounting his bike. Seven called out to him, giving an excited wave, not quite knowing why Zen had been there in the first place. Again, it wasn’t worth his time, and Zen didn’t even bother waving back. 

From then on, Zen and Saeran began to butt heads. 

Zen despised trying to force Saeran into doing something, he really did. In all honesty- he hadn’t really forced anything, he just greatly advised it. Saeran was convinced that medication didn’t help before and it wouldn’t help now, he was always anxious anyway, shouldn’t he just deal with it? And her advice was stupid too- she was the one who told him to stick out that god damn relationship!

Saeran was sad suddenly, thinking back to everything that had happened once again. Zen sighed, holding Saeran close, telling him that he didn’t want to fight and he just wanted the best for him. But- he also had to be open for that as well, at least, if he wanted to get better. 

They fought. 

Saeran screamed and broke dishes sometimes out of the conflictions in his brain. He began tearing out his hair and hitting himself when he grew anxious, as though trying to release the built up tension. 

At first, Zen was afraid. He stayed out of the way, just about paralyzed in fear with the overwhelming flush of emotions radiating from the smaller man. It got so bad one day that he called Jaehee and asked for advice.

Zen finally gained enough confidence to step in. 

Saeran couldn’t sleep, not for a couple days, and the stress was getting to him. He was crying that night, although not because of a particular thought or event. He tried rocking back and forth and pulling his hair, but it wasn’t enough. Scratching his scalp didn’t help either, and his nails broke skin in desperation. 

Seeing the blood on his hands and fingers broke Zen. He rushed forward, pulling Saeran’s hands away from himself, his grip firm and unrelenting. Of course, Saeran started hissing, trying to pull away, but Zen didn’t let him. 

“No- I won’t let you hurt yourself like this! Not after everything!” When Saeran had slowly stopped struggling, Zen pulled him into a tight hug, desperation clear in the way he held the other. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I’ve seen what that kind of shit does to a person. I know you feel hopeless, worthless, like there isn’t a point anymore. But please- please just try… just try therapy, try medication, try… try getting better. Don’t do it for me- do it for yourself.”

A month later- Saeran went back to therapy. 

It took a lot to actually get there. He requested a different therapist, demanded new medication, and told Zen he wanted to walk there by himself. Apparently, he needed the alone time. Of course, it was improvement, and Zen agreed. Saeran was surprised when Zen waved him off on his first appointment. He didn’t watch Saeran leave or constantly text him on where he was. Saeran hated to admit it- but when he got back, he checked Zen’s phone to see if he had called the hospital, checking to see if Saeran actually went- and he made no such call. 

It was strange. It was as though Zen trusted him to make the right choices and that he didn’t have to constantly watch him. It was-

Kind of empowering. 

Saeran got his new therapist, his new medication, and he walked to his appointments for a while. The walking cleared his head- even though it made him lonely. After his fourth appointment, and being on medication for about a month, he asked Zen to join him this time. ‘Only cause I’m bored and need the company’, Saeran had said, and Zen was honestly flattered. 

After another month, he asked Zen if the offer was still open. 

“Do you still want me to stay here? Like- stay here stay here?” Saeran asked softly as they sat in the living room. 

Zen looked up from his phone, giving a cute smile. “Yup! Of course I do!”

Saeran was quiet for a moment, looking at his nails and picking them a little bit. “Uhm-- I think, I would like that. If that’s okay.”

“Hell yeah it’s okay!” Zen shot up, doing a little jump of excitement. He calmed slightly, then looked at Saeran expectantly. “Hey- let’s go out and get something to eat! To celebrate!”

Saeran couldn’t help his own laughter, extending a hand to let Zen pull him up. “Yeah- but you’re paying!”

-

Four months into his stay with Zen, he found out that they broke up. 

Saeran was strangely unsatisfied when the realization dawned on him. He hadn’t been obsessed about it, sure, but he always had questions. When Yoosung revealed he was seeing one of his classmates in the group chat one day- it kind of… broke him. 

Yoosung was moving on without him. 

And Saeyoung was off doing something else. 

They had been anchors for him, tying him to a reality that had been his life. With both of them gone, completely avoiding him at this point, Saeran was distraught. What was life, then? What was reality?

He cried about it one night when Zen was at rehearsal. This was a usual occurrence- if he was ever feeling bad, he waited until the other left in order to cry or scream it out. He just didn’t want to be a bother after everything…

As it turned out, Zen happened to call that night whilst on a break. 

“Hey! Saeran, what’s going on? I hope you don’t mind I called, I was getting kinda bored and- I dunno- wanted to talk to you!”

“They broke up.”

It was strange how just being around someone acclimates you to their behavior. You can learn so much about an acquaintance, a friend, even a lover within the span of a few weeks. 

Months ago, Zen might have been immediately confused by just the mere way Saeran spoke. Saeran had the tendency to keep out information when he spoke, just a sort of habit- but suddenly, Zen knew what he meant. 

“You happy about it?” Zen asks tenderly after a bit of hesitation. The way he asks the question makes it seem like he already knows the answer, so when Saeran gives a quiet no, Zen doesn’t seem too surprised. “I get it- a little bit. When I saw one of my old flings break up with her boyfriend- I thought I’d be happy too. But I wasn’t…”

The conversation hangs in the air a little, and Saeran begins to give a little weep. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like I shouldn’t be angry anymore. They’re both gone… and I don’t have any friends or family now…”

“Hey-” Zen’s voice is soft but very insistent. “You’ve got me. I know I’m not family but- I can be there for you.” There’s a pause, shuffling on the other end. “And I know you haven’t really spent time with Jaehee or… Jumin, but I’m sure they’d like to get to know you. I know you aren’t too good with making new friends or meeting people, but it would be worth a shot, right?”

Saeran gives a small laugh, and for some reason he feels a little better. Zen always had a way of doing that to him. “Yeah- it’s worth a shot.”

-

It took a full year after moving in with Zen for Saeyoung to even contact Saeran. It’s not like he blamed his brother for waiting so long- after all- Saeran didn’t even respond for a week afterwards. Perhaps if he had texted something more than a ‘Sorry’, Saeran would have said something earlier. 

He calls him one day out of the blue with Zen perched off to the side, holding his hand for support.

“Saeran? You called me…”

“Great job genius, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to get that far…”

The conversation went by almost frighteningly smoothly. Saeran spilled his heart out over the phone, relating how he had felt, how damaging it was to have something so important just… ripped away from him. Saeyoung couldn’t really deny anything. He seemed to mostly listen and agree that yes- he was a shitty person. 

Granted- there wasn’t much that Saeyoung could provide. He couldn’t turn back time and make things right. The relationship, from then on, would be casual at best- that’s what Saeran had said, and his brother seemed pleased with that at least. 

Once Saeran hung up, Zen swooped in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you, Saeran! That must’ve took a lot of strength for you to do!”

Saeran snuggled back, pressing into Zen’s chest with a cute smile. “I feel a little better after doing that. I’m not sure though if I can call Yoosung yet…”

“Hey, that’s okay.” Zen pulls back, holding Saeran’s hands close. “It isn’t to make Yoosung feel better, it’s for you to feel resolved. And if you can’t talk to him- hell- I wouldn’t blame you.”

Saeran shrugs, playing with Zen’s fingers. “I guess yeah. I don’t know, I kind of miss him as a friend though.”

Zen frowned a little, but then he summoned a sweet smile. “I get that. But hey- you’ve got Jaehee and Jumin now. They both appreciate having you around.”

That much was true, and Saeran had come to realize it slowly. Jaehee and him bonded, of course, over coffee. Saeran never thought that would happen, especially since he despised coffee. 

_“It’s so bitter and flavorless! How is it supposed to be good!?”_

_Jaehee screwed her face up, seemingly offended for a brief second. “What kind of coffee have you been drinking? Every new brand has a different flavor.” She turned around and started up the coffee machine. “Let me make something for you- we’ll see if you like it.”_

_Moments later, she shoved a mug of the concoction towards him despite his disgruntled expression. “It’s a mocha. Chocolate, milk, espresso- and I put enough chocolate that it should cancel out the bitterness but keep its flavor. Try it.”_

_He did with reluctance, his brow curling at the firstly bitter feeling- but then the chocolate set in along with an almost smoky flavor. “Wow- it’s… it’s kinda good.” Saeran admitted quietly, taking another sip._

_Jaehee gave a soft laugh. “They make different kinds of creams with unique flavors- and you haven’t known coffee unless you’ve had a well-blended and flavored frappuccino…”_

_“They have different flavors?” Saeran asked, surprised. And Jaehee nodded._

_Things had gone rather smoothly from there, but with Jumin- it was a different story._

_Jumin never really went out of his way to spend time with people as it is, and Saeran could share that sentiment. Instead of just hanging out, they just talked over the messenger._

_They skirted over topic after topic, what they liked, what they did, jobs and duties, aspirations and dreams. They both knew it was useless, yet it continued for a while. Eventually, they both grew tired of it- and Saeran had almost discontinued talking to him until he got a text out of the blue._

_**Jumin**  
This is tiring. Look- let’s talk about the real subject. Yoosung and Seven. _

_Now this was interesting. Saeran played with his phone a bit before actually responding._

_**Saeran**  
You really want to open that can of worms?_

_**Jumin**  
You seem troubled by it. And it’s not a topic that should be swept under the rug. So let’s talk. You tell me your problems, and I will tell you mine. _

_It was certainly unorthodox to make conversations and friends this way, but it worked out. As it turned out, they shared similar feelings and felt pain from loved ones that they couldn’t bare to face._

_Saeran got scared for a while, especially talking to Jumin about this. Hell- he even found it hard to talk to Zen about it. Jumin admitted similar, how he hadn’t even told V some of the secrets he shared with Saeran. It made him feel a little important._

_In Jumin- he found an invaluable confidant, and if he had issues or a problem- he was the guy to go to._

 

Saeran nodded a little. “Yeah- yeah they do. I appreciate them too…”

Zen smiles again, pulling Saeran into a hug. “And I appreciate you, Saeran. You know that, right?”

Saeran’s eyes shimmer a little bit as he looked back at Zen, almost in disbelief at the statement. But he knew it was true. It took so many months for him to finally realize it- yeah, he was wanted. At least a little bit. 

“Yeah- I know that.”

-

Saeran flipped over and over, as though he were trying to rub his scent into the sheets. He adored the way the bed felt, plush enough to just about absorb him- it had been a while since he slept in such a good bed, at least in the past. 

He perked up a little bit as Zen came out of the bathroom, dragging a towel through his damp hair. After making sure his hair was dry enough, Zen plopped down on the other side of the bed, making Saeran jump a little. Zen looks at him, laughing a little with Saeran’s very intense attention. “Admiring something?”

Saeran immediately scoffed, looking away. “Not you.”

Zen feigns pain, holding his chest to contain his pained heart. “Oh how hurtful, Saeran! How could you be so mean?”

“Cause I know you can take it,” Saeran counters immediately, an almost sly smile crossing his face. 

And Zen grins, eyeing Saeran with equal slyness, as though sizing him up for battle. “I can take whatever you give me~”

Saeran blushes first, his face hardening- and then he laughs uncontrollably. Zen watches him with adoration, just letting the other laugh. Once the laughing dies down a little, Zen’s hand moves, reaching out to hold Saeran’s cheek. And he enjoys the touch, nuzzling into the hand holding him. A thumb traces the edge of his bottom lip, just slightly. 

“May I?” Zen’s question is soft, barely a whisper, his brow curling up and genuinely caring. 

Saeran nods. “Yes.”

Zen leans forward and Saeran does as well, their lips meeting in the middle, very tender and slow. 

Saeran couldn’t answer how they got to this moment. He couldn’t quite figure out when he started sleeping in Zen’s bed either. And he wasn’t sure where he’d be going now or what he’d be doing. 

But, if things did get a little mixed up- he had Zen, and for right now, that’s all he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end folks, thank you all for sticking around for this crazy ride! Much love for everyone who's commented and sent love to this story, you're support is what made this happen!

**Author's Note:**

> Have a suggestion or prompt? Comment or send a message to my tumblr at tcohs-messenger!


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